


The Original

by WriterJC



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterJC/pseuds/WriterJC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they made John Sheppard, they broke the mold. Or, at least, they should have. An incident on an uninhabited world tests the bonds of friendship and hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Original

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written to the theme "Where's John?", which is also the title of the lovely artwork which inspired the fic. Please bear that in mind as you read, and do not let certain occurrences early on worry you. In the timeline, these events might fall during season three after Tao of Rodney but prior to Sunday.
> 
> Link to artwork: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1629110

After almost four years in the Pegasus Galaxy, John Sheppard had learned to expect the unexpected.

That’s why he never saw it coming when the ground went out from beneath him without warning. One moment he was walking around on what he’d thought was a densely overgrown courtyard set amid some fairly interesting ruins and the next he was free falling through empty air.

Self-preservation kicked in and he grabbed for anything he could in an attempt to break his fall. But he only succeeded in bringing down more debris with him as he fell. The area that had opened up was obviously a shaft of some kind that was already partially clogged with organic matter. His falling body plowed right through it before slamming against something hard and unyielding.

He landed half on his side on a slanted surface strewn with what felt like a multitude of jagged edges. He grabbed instinctively, at anything his hands came into contact with as momentum continued to carry him. The slanted surface catapulted him down and to the side before depositing him in a heap on another smoother surface. 

For what felt like an eternity, he just lay there, trying to remember how to breathe. With that first breath came a multitude of pain. He registered the fact that while the tac vest had undoubtedly protected him from whatever his falling body had just crushed into oblivion, it hadn’t completely spared its wearer.

As the rushing in his ears began to diminish, he heard the faint sound of voices calling his name.

“Colonel!”

He blinked his eyes open, trying to get a bead on his exact location, but his pupils only found near complete darkness. Judging by the stinging along the side of his face, he knew the radio ear piece was gone. His P-90 was MIA, and it was so dark that seeing the hand in front of his face didn’t seem very likely.

“Great.” The word sounded gravelly to his own ears, and it set off a round of coughing that was less than pleasant with what he suspected was at best bruised ribs. Amid the coughing, he managed to get his hands flat on a cool stone surface in an effort to lever himself into a seated position. As he did so, he felt something else even more worrying than falling down a hole.

He began to feel a fine tremor emulating from the ground beneath him. He could feel the micro-motions as if they were resonating through his very bones.

“John! Are you okay? Can you hear us?!” this time Teyla’s voice. And she sounded pretty worried. They must have felt the tremors, too. The last thing he needed was to be trapped underground during an earth quake. He wanted out of here, and he wanted out now. And while he was on the subject, some light would be good, too.

Nearly four years in the Pegasus Galaxy had taught John to be careful what he wished for.

 

-1st-

Dr. Elizabeth Weir savored a sip of steaming coffee as she looked out across the balcony. It was early still, the Lantean Sun having been up no more than a few hours. Though the weather in the city section of the planet's ocean was temperate, during the cool season long sleeves and a jacket were not unwelcome additions.

She wrapped both hands about her mug, appreciating the comfort it offered. Coffee, now available since they had regular supply runs from Earth, was a welcome reminder of home. But there was something equally comforting about the cold boisterousness of the now familiar waves of this once alien ocean. Atlantis was so much her home now. It had grabbed hold of her spirit in a way that no other place had. These people were her family. She would gladly live out the rest of her days here.

The faint sound of the gate alarm interrupted her morning ritual. She glanced downward into the half-drank mug and murmured, “duty calls,” then turned and headed inside.

Even as she said the words, she couldn’t truly find it in her heart to complain. Her duty was a cherished responsibility. The stained glass doors that shifted open on her approach, weren’t simply an entry way, they were a portal into a millennia old city, built by the Ancients. There was almost an aliveness to the place that demanded her respect and care. In this timeline, and others if the AU Elizabeth was to be believed, she was destined to do her part in protecting it.

Shaking off the sudden introspection, she stepped into the city, leaving everything behind save the business at hand. A quick mental run-through of the teams who were off base and their expected returns and check-ins filtered through her mind. Major Stephen’s team was on M78-457 working with an ecological team studying the effects of several volcanoes. Major Lorne and Major Krispin were on M59-422 doing exercises. Colonel Sheppard and his team were on M48-742 studying a planet in the database that had so intrigued Doctor McKay that he’d practically annoyed her into approving the mission. Though she would have approved it anyway ... eventually, for her own sanity and the sake of her inbox, she allowed him to move it up in the roster ahead of other already planned missions.

None of those teams were expected to check in for several more hours. Perhaps it was one of their allies, seeking an audience. Unexpected activations were rarely good news. By the time she reached the control room proper, she was working on convincing herself that there was nothing to worry about until there was actually something to worry about.

“What have we got?” she asked of Chuck who was already scanning a code on his computer screen.

“It’s Colonel Sheppard’s team,” he said just as the iris shield dissipated.

“Any radio communications?”

“No ma’am.”

“Hmm. They’re back early,” she murmured thoughtfully, wondering what might have possibly gone wrong to bring them back so soon. Chuck looked briefly in her direction, but offered no response. And then, all eyes were focused on the event horizon.

The first watery splurt sounded as a form stepped through. It was Rodney McKay, followed by Teyla, then Colonel Sheppard and finally Ronon. Everyone seemed to be in one piece, if a bit subdued. And unless she was mistaken, John was favoring his right side and his uniform was not as pristine as she was sure it had been when he left earlier that morning.

“Well that was pretty fast,” she said, a subtle reminder to McKay of his mission estimate for their visit to this world. He’d requested three days. They’d not even taken the eight hours she had authorized, having barely been gone three. The site must have been a total bust. After all the hype, she was sure someone would be getting an earful from Rodney.

“Well, we had a bit of a --”

“Now, now, no need to - -” John shot an annoyed look in Rodney’s direction, and then came to a stop, his face suddenly expressionless.

“No need to what?” Rodney shot back in his direction, obviously enjoying a moment of teasing at the Colonel’s expense.

John never responded. He collapsed so quickly and completely that none of his team was able to break his fall.

~*~

Carson Beckett did not in any way break stride as he caught sight of the unusual activity at the base of the gate. Teyla was bent over Colonel Sheppard, performing chest compressions. If that had not told him much of what he needed to know, then the otherwise tense quiet of the control room would have been a clue.

He moved quickly past Elizabeth, who stood to the side, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Rodney, half-sitting on his knees very near Sheppard’s head, shot Carson a numb, almost lost look, before scooting backward to give him space. Ronon stood a few feet away, his fists clenched as if he wanted to punch something.

“Let us get in there love,” he spoke softly, as he touched Teyla’s shoulder. By the way she gasped, and looked up at him, he was certain that she hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“What happened?” he demanded of the group at large as he waved his medical team forward to begin their own assessment. Already he didn’t like what he was seeing.

“He just collapsed to the floor out of nowhere!” Rodney exclaimed. He looked on the verge of hyperventilating. Carson filed the thought away. It was something to be dealt with later.

“No previous trauma? Insect bites?” Carson pressed, as the pads were attached to the colonel's chest. He noted bits of dirt and debris on the colonel's uniform, and there were obvious bruises along his exposed forearms, a ragged tear in the knee of his trousers and a few other assorted scratches and lacerations. All of those things were minor. Healthy hearts didn't just stop for no reason.

“He fell in a hole,” Teyla spoke up, her voice shaky. “Something may have happened then.”

Carson nodded, and then looked back at his patient. Something to go on if he managed to get the colonel's heart restarted. Almost unbidden the memory returned of another time when he had worked to restart John Sheppard’s heart.

A chill edged along his spine as he focused on the scanner's display. There was zero electrical activity. Flatline.

He called for drugs, and a continuation of CPR. Determined that he would do all that he could for his friend, he kept at it there on the gate room floor for ten minutes, before loading the colonel onto the waiting gurney and moving him to the infirmary. He continued the chest compressions himself all the way there.

Forty minutes and every medical trick he knew later, he was forced to admit defeat. The words rang hollow in the room as he pronounced Lt. Colonel John Sheppard dead at 10:27 a.m.

\--2nd--

“Do we really have to do this now?” Rodney demanded as he paced in front of the conference room table.

Elizabeth absorbed his anger, knowing that it was grief speaking. She was still in shock herself. But she needed to know what had happened that had brought them to this point. The only allowance she could offer was to conduct this meeting in the conference room, away from the well intentioned, yet prying eyes, of other expedition members.

She had thought to make an announcement on city-wide, and of offering some sort of comfort. But, the comms were already on overload with the news. A pall had fallen over the base. This investigation would give them all something to focus on in the short term. Four hours earlier John Sheppard had been alive and healthy. Stargate Command was going to want answers outside of what Carson might find in his autopsy.

“I’m with him,” Ronon spoke up. Grief warred with fury in his gaze. Where Rodney paced, Ronon sat, looking as if he would burst with unspent energy. It was the look of a warrior ready to go into battle, and heaven help anyone who crossed his path. But there was a frustration and helplessness there, too, because there was no enemy here that he could fight to avenge his friend.

“I understand how you both must be feeling.” Elizabeth choose her words very carefully. “I counted John Sheppard as a very good friend, and I will miss him terribly. But if there is something in the mission report, something that we might discover now, while it’s still fresh, we may be able to find some way to ….”

Elizabeth paused, trying to find the words without allowing emotions to drag her down.

She looked up as Teyla's hand covered hers. “We ...” she looked around to encompass the rest of the team, “understand what you are trying to do, Elizabeth. But, perhaps it is too soon. I do not know that we have all fully accepted what has happened. I know that I have not.”

Elizabeth wanted to argue further, but looking into the faces before her, she knew that she wouldn't. She owed them this much. She nodded, knowing they would go off to some part of the city together to mourn John Sheppard in their own way.

The echoing sound of the gate alarm was a welcome distraction. Elizabeth trailed the solemn group from the conference room, wondering which of the off world teams was on the other end of the gate.

“Dr Weir! We’re receiving Colonel Sheppard’s IDC!”

The words were a jolt to her system, and for several moments she froze. Had she heard incorrectly?

"We're receiving a transmission," Chuck announced.

"Put it on speaker,” she urged, moving farther into the room so that she stood nearer to the radio pick up.

“Atlantis, I repeat, this is Sheppard. What the hell is going on? Ronon, Rodney and Teyla are missing. I need help finding them. Lower the shield.” He sounded more than a little annoyed.

Elizabeth shared a bewildered look with the three members of his team. The voice sounded so much like John Sheppard that it was painful. Even after Chuck had announced that it was John’s IDC, she hadn’t truly expected the voice to be his. “They’re here, they’re safe,” she responded, biting back anything further. 

There was a long pause, then, “Really?”

Elizabeth knew John well enough to recognize the confusion, hurt and betrayal in his tone. And that point alone troubled her to her very soul. Could this man be John Sheppard and the dead one in the infirmary be the imposter?

“Yes. Y-they came back more than an hour ago.” She stumbled over the words, not wanting to reveal too much.

“Are they okay?” John pressed.

“They’re fine.” Elizabeth responded, dreading the decision she knew she needed to make as the awkwardness of the moment grew. As soon as John had been declared dead, automatic protocols had kicked in, the first of which was the lock out of his iris deactivation code. A manual override would be required. He would see the lowering of the shield, or the lack there of, on his IDC. She had to decide whether to allow this man into the city.

She looked toward his team, toward Teyla, the question in her eyes. They were the ones who knew him best. Teyla seemed to speak for them all when she nodded, teary-eyed.

Elizabeth, acknowledged her response and looked toward Chuck, giving him the go-ahead. 

“He’s coming through,” Chuck notified the room at large.

“Security,” Elizabeth called for the forces that Sheppard himself had trained. Ronon fell in with them as they converged on the area immediately in front of the gate.

They were all standing with weapons at the ready when the painfully familiar form stepped through the event horizon. John’s response to having three guns pointed in his direction was to reach for his own.

He never completed the motion.

Unlike before, Ronon managed to catch him before he completely collapsed. Also unlike before, Elizabeth’s gaze was locked on him when it happened. She saw the expression on his face when he came through. It was exactly the one she expected in this situation. And then, determination when he found himself faced with the armed security forces.

Without warning, all of that force and personality simply shut down. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. For several moments afterward, no one moved. The security team seemed at a loss as to what their responsibility was in this situation.

“We need a medical team to the gate room!” Elizabeth called, setting things back in motion, and setting the tone.

They were treating this man like their John Sheppard, just like they had the first one who had stepped through the gate and dropped to the floor.

Teyla was half down the steps headed for this new Sheppard's side, doubtless to fulfill her previous role of administering whatever medical aid she could until Carson and his team arrived. But Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to move from the spot she'd staked out high above in the control room.

The most recent version of this very scenario was too fresh. She leaned her elbows against the railing, suddenly feeling very tired, and looked toward Rodney who had remained with her. He seemed as confused and frozen as she felt.

Frozen except for his hands, which seemed to be in search of something. She realized that this was one of the few occasions where he didn’t have some type of electronic item on his person.

“What is this Rodney?” she half whispered as she looked back at the scene playing out below, willing Teyla’s CPR attempts to be effective this time. “Any ideas? Alternate universe? A problem with the stargate?”

“You mean something other than a citywide case of mass deja vu or hell?” There was no mistaking the bitterness in his tone.

Elizabeth could not disagree with the latter option, but she needed better answers. She raised a questioning brow in his direction.

“Isn’t that what they call it when you’re forced to re-live the same traumatic event over and over?” he demanded.

Elizabeth let it go, deciding that in this instance it was better to engage his brain rather than his heart. “Was there anything in the database about M48-742 that might even begin to explain ...,” she gestured in the general direction of the gate, “what’s happened today.”

Rodney shook his head, clearly still trying to shake off his anxiety and grief. “No ... the entry wasn’t very large. It was sort of vague, really. It ...” Elizabeth recognized the moment the idea hit him.

“We need to go back to M48-742, and we need to go back now,” Rodney was suddenly very anxious, practically bouncing.

“What is it? What are you thinking?” Elizabeth asked, glad to see the old Rodney surfacing. A scientific answer would go a long way in helping find some kind of closure for the members of the expedition as well as Stargate Command and the IOA. 

“I’m thinking that that isn’t John Sheppard, and neither is the other one in the infirmary.”

“Are you sure, Rodney?” she asked gently. She wanted neither of those men to be their John, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility that they were.

“I will be once we go back.”

“Rodney, you know I’ll need more than that before I can authorize another mission back there.”

“What? Would you rather think of him as dead?” Rodney demanded.

She let the sting of the barb roll over her. “Of course not. But I would rather avoid having that happen to another member of the team next time. Wouldn’t you?”

Rodney looked away without answering. That was as close as he was going to come to saying that she might be right. “I’ll go back through the database, run a few tests, see what I can find.”

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, then watched him go. And then she turned back to the floor in front of the gate and watched as Carson loaded John onto a gurney and wheeled him out. For the second time.

\---3rd---

 

He woke to darkness and cold. The darkness resolved into dim half-light, rough looking walls and the faint sound of bird song. A slow blink brought more of his surroundings into focus. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t on Atlantis. 

He was laying on his side on something cold and hard that was strewn with bits of organic debris. Dead vines, tiny bits of rock, and he really hoped that those little pellets weren’t something left behind by an animal. A cave, he realized. He was laying on the floor in a cave.

He pushed himself upward onto his arms and found that the portion of the floor he’d found himself on was slightly raised and vaguely square. The entire room itself wasn’t much larger than the inside of the jumper. There was even an opening that would have been roughly at the jumper’s ramp.

A low groan escaped as he managed a sitting position. That simple motion told him in vivid detail that whatever had brought him here hadn’t been pleasant. Pain across his chest told him in no uncertain terms that he’d somehow managed to bruise a few ribs. The stings along his arms, and a bloody tear on the knee of his pants suggested other adventures. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn’t remember any of it.

Right now, that didn’t matter. He knew what he needed to do. He needed to get up, get out of here and find his team. In that order.

Getting to his feet involved a few more grunts. Another quick look around his sparse surroundings offered no clues. He reached for his ear piece and found only his ear.

“Batting a thousand,” he grumbled. Then his eyes settled on the 9 mill still strapped in this thigh holster. The hand held portion of his radio was also right where it was supposed to be.

“That’s better.” He wasted no time putting it to use “McKay, Ronon, Teyla, what's your position?”

Silence.

“McKay, Ronon, Teyla, state your position.”

No response.

“Anyone on this channel, come in.”

Nothing. That meant one of two things. There was no one else in range, or everyone else was dead. Either way, he was on his own.

The arched opening led into a narrower section which led off to the left and to the right. John opted to go to the left, following the sound of birds singing and the smell of fresher air. The light was also brighter in that direction.  
The corridor led to a much larger section of the cave that looked a lot rougher. The rocks were large and black beneath the heavy coating of moss. Vines grew up along the walls, encroaching on the inside of the cave before tapering off where the sunlight penetrated less brightly. 

Long strands of hanging vines partially obscured the low entrance way, but still allowed filtered light into the area. Nearer the opening he half stumbled, and was forced to catch himself along the rocky moss encrusted walls. As he pushed off, having found his balance, he noticed an impression in one of the stones ahead.

The mossy surface had been disturbed. Unless he’d completely lost his mind, it was a foot print. It was in the shape of a boot just like the gate teams wore on Atlantis.

Unease worked its way along his spine. Resting his hand on the butt of his 9 mil, he stepped out into a tropical paradise.  
~* ~

“Unscheduled off-world activation. It’s Colonel Sheppard’s IDC. As I predicted.” McKay’s announcement was spoken with just enough accusation so as to ensure that Doctor Weir understood his point.

Teyla had hoped and yet feared that this moment would come again. Rodney had predicted that a third John Sheppard would arrive within 2 hours of the last one, had insisted that if he was correct, then they should immediately return to M48-742.

“Let him in,” Elizabeth announced. She had not been swayed by Rodney’s arguments earlier nor at present. Elizabeth’s cited reasons had been logical, yet Teyla could not shake the feeling that the right thing to do was to return to the planet and seek answers there at the source.

Still, Teyla met Elizabeth’s gaze across one of the control consoles, and offered mutual encouragement and support for the thing that they must both now do.

“He’s coming through,” Chuck announced.

Teyla took a final moment to look around at the rest of the occupants of the control room. Doctors McKay and Zelenka were bent over consoles, intently studying some information on their computer screens, while the rest of the technicians were focused on the event horizon. Major Lorne, who had returned from a mission just half an hour earlier, was standing near the steps leading up from the gate level along with Ronon and the security team.

She knew that nearby on the level beneath the gate, Doctor Beckett and his team stood by at the ready in case they were needed.

And then a form appeared through the gate. It was Colonel Sheppard, looking just as he had before. He looked around, seeming surprised at the unusual number of personnel on the gate level.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then, just as before, he dropped lifeless to the gate room floor.

 

\----4th----

He woke to darkness, and found himself alone in a cave, with no memory of what had happened before. He didn’t know why he was there, or where he was. He only knew that he needed to find his team.

As soon as he stepped out of the cave and into the dappled sunlight, faint memories began to return. He was on M48-742. They had come here on a mission to explore some new signal that had McKay in a tizzy.

He very clearly remembered coming through the gate at what seemed to be a beautiful mid-morning on this world. Tall moss-covered trees surrounded the gate, effectively preventing jumper travel, and creating a cooling canopy of sweet smelling greenery. Lower to the ground, large tropical looking plants grew amid the trunks, some blooming in brilliant colors. Lush was the word that had come to mind.

The cave opening was located half down the side of a large tree covered hill. It’s entrance was completely hidden by brush and vines.

Once he was outside of the cave, he continued and circled around the hill where he caught sight of the ruins. Obviously someone had occupied this world at some point. That thought triggered another. He remembered thinking, or saying those very words before. He could almost see Ronon, Rodney and Teyla moving about among the ruins.

And then there was nothing. Just him and the birds.

As he stood there, staring at the rocks, a sudden thought occurred to him. “Idiot. You must have really knocked your head,” he berated himself as he began a quick search of his tac vest. He found the life signs detector just where he usually placed it when he carried it on missions.

As he wrapped his hand around its firm surface, he willed it to activate and tell him where his friends were. Long moments passed and the screen remained dark. It was completely blank, no human life signs. Several smacks with the side of his palm didn't coax anything out of it.

“Just great,” he muttered, and shoved the device back into his vest. McKay would fix it. Never mind that he wasn't sure exactly where McKay was.

One thing was for certain. If he was going to have any chance of finding anyone, he was going to need help. Though he wasn't sure how he knew it, some sense told him that the gate was a good distance from the ruins. He started walking.

The farther he moved from the ruins, the more memories returned. As he walked, the morning’s events began to play through his mind like the scenes from a movie.

“Why did we wait to come here so long, again?” he verbally poked at McKay as they moved among the tropical greenery.

Rodney snorted without breaking eye contact with his tablet. “Because someone insisted that this world didn’t need to be bumped higher up the list.”

“You said yourself that you didn’t know why Smart Rodney wrote this gate address in his –”

“Heightened Rodney!” McKay came to a stop, with a finger in the air in an effort to get his point across. “Calling him Smart Rodney suggests that I’m not still brilliant.”

“Oh, so, why are we here?” John asked.

“We’re heading toward the structure the MALP scans picked up!” Rodney gestured toward his data pad. “And since we’ve been here, oh, all of ten minutes, I’ve begun to pick up a faint signal.”

“Really?” That got John’s attention. He moved closer to get a look at the information on the screen.

“Yes.” Rodney took pleasure in pointing out the faint pulsating point on the screen. “It’s in the vicinity of the structure.”

John nodded begrudgingly. “All I was saying was if you’d sold this place as the Hawaii of the Pegasus Galaxy, we might have come a lot sooner.”

Rodney looked up and around, unimpressed. “Of course you would see paradise while I see allergens.”

“They have pills for that,” John told him. “This, you can’t buy.” He spread his arms wide, and breathed deeply of the sweet scented air.

“It is a lovely world.” Teyla spoke up in agreement as her eyes tracked a colorful bird. It’s wafer thin wings seemed to flap a hundred times a second as it dipped its beak into the center of one of the large blossoms, obviously drawing up nectar. “It also appears to be uninhabited. It is not a known gate address among the Athosians.”

“No sign of any large animal life, a nearby ocean, lots of food if these fruit are edible.” John was ticking off the particulars.

“Great for R & R,” Ronon suggested.

“My thoughts exactly.” John was already entertaining thoughts of surfing. He had a feeling the beaches here would be balmy and beautiful. Maybe that was why there was very little information in the database about this world. Why would the Ancients go into heavy detail about a place they only used for camping?’’

“Speaking of, where is the nearest beach?”

“Just pick a direction and start walking. This is an island after all. You’ll get there eventually.” Rodney seemed annoyed by all of their talk of vacationing. Not surprising, and as good a reason as any for John to keep pressing him about it.

“Well, how far?”

“How far what?” Rodney had already moved on, refocused on the signal and the structure that had so enticed him.

“The ocean, McKay. How far to the ocean?”

“It’s that way!” he pointed haphazardly off to the right. “Sixteen kilometers.”

John raised a suspicious brow. “Are you sure? It didn’t look like you even tried to get the direction right.”

“Of course, I’m sure,” Rodney insisted. “The gate is roughly in the center of this island. The ocean is within about 16 kilometers of the gate in any direction. I couldn’t get it wrong if I tried.”

“Good enough.” John was happy to hear that. That made R & R on this world even easier. He was already making plans.

“Can we, you know, do what we came here to do, now?” McKay asked.

John rolled his eyes, but only because McKay expected it. This was a morning walk he didn’t mind.

~*~

Rodney walked into the infirmary, only half paying attention to where he was going. The Ancients might have been great at creating technology, but they were terrible at keeping records. He’d been scouring the database for every record even remotely linked to M48-742. Everything from lists of gates in certain quadrants of the galaxy, to gates near worlds with binary star systems. Most of it was virtually useless, as he had known it would be. He had been through this all before when he’d come across the address in the notes he’d written while under the influence of the ascension machine. He was now programming his data pad to review the information that he had recorded while they were on M48-742.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up sharply to see Ronon standing in front of him with a grim look on his face. Rodney glanced away uncomfortably at his friend’s pained look. It was killing the Satedan to sit around and essentially do nothing.

“Sorry,” he murmured. He had to work harder to find something. 

Teyla, Elizabeth, and Radek were already there. They all looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

He looked beyond them all, and his mind stumbled over the odd sight before him. Of course, on some level he knew that they were all there, but it was a little startling to see them all lined up like that. Though they all lay on individual beds, and someone had covered them with a sheet, varying bits of Sheppard was visible. On one it was the shock of spiky hair, on another an arm peeped out replete with a black arm band, and the last it was a foot. They were all identifiable as John Sheppard.

“That’s … unnerving,” he managed.

“It is quite unsettling.” Teyla agreed with him. “But you were correct in your hypothesis that another would appear. That is a good sign, is it not?”

“We might have better information if we went back there so we can see first hand what’s going on.” Rodney couldn’t bear to admit that even after his brave statement that these freakishly accurate looking fakes weren’t the real John Sheppard, he didn’t have any real proof. It was a gut feeling, and it was eating away at him.

“Rodney.” Elizabeth shot him a reproving look.

“I’m with McKay.” Ronon voiced his support for action. He already looked like he was ready to prowl off on his own to find out what happened to his team leader.

“No one is going back to M48-742 until we have more information. I cannot allow this to happen to more members of this expedition if it is avoidable.” Elizabeth’s no nonsense tone didn’t always work on this group. “Were you able to find anything in the database?” She set a pointed look on Rodney.

Rodney shook his head. “Still checking.” For all he knew they would be cursed to have Sheppards appear through the gate every few hours for all of eternity.

“Good, you’re all here.” Carson appeared from one of the side rooms dressed in a lab coat, pushing one of the ancient scanners. He maneuvered it into the central space where they were all standing. He was the only one in the room who didn’t look as depressed as Rodney felt.

“I’ve completed the autopsies of Sheppard subjects one through three,” Carson began, and Rodney felt obliged to cut him off.

“Wait – all of them?” The third one had only been there little more than half an hour. During part of that time, he knew that Carson had been valiantly trying to resuscitate him. Ancient scanners or no, medical mumbo jumbo or not, that shouldn’t have been enough time to form a reliable hypothesis.

“Aye, there’s much more work still to be done, mind you. But the most important question is answered.”

Rodney glanced around as that sentence hung in the air. No one else seemed to be jumping in to hurry things along, so he did. “And that question is?”

“Whether or not one or any of these men is John Sheppard.” Carson spoke as if the question was obvious.

“And?” Rodney urged him on.

“Rodney, why don’t we let Carson finish?”

He backed down and waved that Beckett should continue.

“The answer is no. None of them are John Sheppard.”

There was a collection reaction around the room. Rodney felt both relief and guilt. Relief that he was right, and that there was finally proof. And guilt because if none of these men was John Sheppard, then they had left him behind, along on M48-742.

“If they’re not Colonel Sheppard, who are they?” Elizabeth asked the question, while her gaze lingered on the nearest one. Only Carson knew if it was the first, second or third one that had come through the gate.

“Not who, what,” Carson corrected. “They’re not human.”

Rodney’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“Replicators?” Elizabeth asked the question that was uppermost in his mind. If this were replicators, that would be bad. Very bad.

“No,” Carson put everyone’s mind at ease. “They aren’t replicators.”

With a touch at the side of the scanner, he displayed an image on the large screen. “They are somewhat biological in nature,” he explained, showing a full-body scan of one of the Sheppards which showed all the internal parts that Rodney had learned about in school and wasn’t particularly interested in seeing again.

“They appear to be designed to completely mimic human biology. There’s a heart muscle, here. Lungs here, liver, spleen. But there are subtle differences, such as the bodily fluids. They are all synthetic. It’s actually quite amazing really. The most obvious difference came to light during the cranial scan. There was no actual brain to speak of.”

Rodney made a choking sound and Elizabeth glanced in his direction. “Oh come on, I’m worried, too. But does no one realize that there’s a great joke in there and that Sheppard would really appreciate...” he trailed off. Perhaps this was inappropriate.

“Sorry, stress …”

“We get it, Rodney.” Carson offered a small smile.

“Any idea why they...” Elizabeth searched for the right word. “Stopped living?”

Carson shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m not sure how they were working in the first place.”

“I may have a suggestion.” Radek raised a hand. “If I may?” He gestured toward Carson’s scanner.

“Of course.” Carson gestured him forward.

Radek quickly transferred the data from his pad to the larger screen. “When the last, uh, one, came through, Dr McKay and I were running several programs to capture any bit of data coming from the wormhole and from Colonel Sheppard. I believe I found something.”

He pointed to one signal, and brought it to the fore. “This signal, extremely low frequency, was buried against the background noise of the wormhole. I cannot be certain that it is not bleed over from subspace, but I believe it was coming through the gate from M48-742. I have checked the logs. It was there during both transports in - when Colonel Sheppard was with the team and when he came through alone.”

“So what you’re saying is that these are like some sort of puppets controlled by a signal on M48-742, which is using the wormhole as a conduit. But once the gate shuts down, the signal is lost, and in effect the strings are cut?”

“Essentially, yes,” Zelenka confirmed.

“That makes sense. They all collapsed immediately when the gate shut down.” Rodney was completely on board with Zelenka’s idea. It gave him an idea as well. He called up the recording program on his own data pad to compare Zelenka’s signal to what was in his own buffer.

“If these men aren’t Sheppard, where is he?” Ronon demanded of the room at large.

“And why has he not tried to return to Atlantis?” Teyla added.

“You mentioned that he fell down a hole. What were his injuries when you got him out?” Carson asked the question.

“We did not get him out,” Teyla replied.

“Tell me everything that happened, Lass,” Carson requested.

Teyla nodded. “We were at the ruins. Colonel Sheppard was looking at section which contained a large stone wall with what appeared to be Ancestor writing, when suddenly the ground gave way beneath his feet. We could not reach him on the radio . . . .”

“Colonel Sheppard, can you hear us?!” Teyla was on her hands and knees as close as she dared to the gaping hole that had swallowed her friend. Dirt and debris continued to tumble through as she moved around, warning that there might be further collapse if she was not careful. She was not certain, but thought she detected a smooth, surface farther down as if there was much more to the structure that extended below ground.

“I’m going to go down after him,” Ronon insisted, moving to step forward. More of the earth around the hole began to spill downward.

“No, Ronon! Stay back. It is not safe.”

“We have to find another way to get him out!” McKay was looking for something on his computer screen. “I don’t have the right kind of scanner to get any real detail of what’s down there, but I can tell that whatever it is is manmade. The dimensions are too precise.”

“How is that going to help us get him out?” Ronon wanted to know.

“It’s going to help us to find another way in that isn’t going to end up crushing him under several tons of dirt and stone,” Rodney shot back.

“Wait, I hear something.” Teyla bent as close as she dared. Then, a smile lit up her face. “Coughing! I hear coughing. He is alive.”

She turned back toward the hole. “John? Are you okay? Can you hear us?”

There was no response for long moments, and then they heard him across the radio. “McKay, Ronon, Teyla, state your position.”

“Colonel!” Teyla was the first to reach for her radio. “We are above you at the ruins. You fell through a hole. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. A little roughed up, but OK.” His disembodied voice sound a bit gravelly.

“Where are you? Should we send down a rope?”

“I don’t think I’ll need a rope. I can move around pretty well. I’ll find my way to you. I can see you on my scanner.”

“Are you certain that you are okay?” Teyla asked minutes later when he appeared from among the trees. With the exception of a few scratches, Colonel Sheppard did look okay. But he seemed off, distracted, very much like he was hiding some deeper problem. She had seen that look enough times to recognize it as his way of hiding pain.

“Of course. I’m fine.”

The Colonel carried on as she had suspected he would. But that didn’t mean that she would give up. Dr. Beckett, and most certainly Doctor Weir would be on her side in suggesting that he get checked out in the infirmary upon their return.

“That why you’re moving like you bruised something?”

“I fell down a hole, McKay. Of course I bruised ... something.”

Sheppard got an annoyed look on his face. “Look. We need to get back to the Atlantis. This place is unstable. If we come back we’re going to need to bring a couple of structural engineers to reinforce things before we do any more exploring.”

Everyone fell in with him as they began the long walk back to the gate. There were more of the lovely creatures that had enjoined them on their first trek through the area. Teyla wondered if John was aware of the way everyone subtly looked after him.

Rodney threw a few glances his way, not missing the slight limp that he had gained over the course of their walk. Teyla moved alongside him, hoping to somehow provide strength by simply being there. Ronon, for his part, ensured that the path ahead was clear.

It was obvious that not many had found this world. Other than the ruins, there was no sign of human habitation. The gate address was not known to her, and she felt certain that its memory had either been lost over time, or it was a world set aside by the ancestors for some other purpose.

What was it Colonel Sheppard had once said? Uninhabited worlds were usually uninhabited for a reason.

“When we returned to Atlantis, it was my goal to ensure that he be examined,” Teyla completed her story.

“Aye, that’s what I feared. If he is indeed the basis for these copies, then, I believe Colonel Sheppard may be injured. The scans of the subjects reveal what might be consistent with injuries to the ribs, the knee and the head.”

“We have to go back. Is that enough evidence for you?” Ronon focused a fierce look on Elizabeth.

“Yes, it is. Gear up. Let’s go find him.”

“The Colonel will likely need medical attention. I’d like to go along, too,” Carson said.

“Agreed.”

~*~

As John continued along the path back to the gate, memories continued to surface. Up until they found the ruins, it had been an enjoyable mission. But that had been hours earlier, mid morning at the latest. Judging by the position of the sun, it was headed toward evening. Had he spent that much of the day unconscious in that cave?

The reminder of the passage of time awakened other needs. He hadn’t bothered with much more than coffee and a muffin looking thing for breakfast. His gaze caught on the wild looking fruit which grew abundantly along the way. Would he want to risk it to find out if they were edible? But then again, maybe the hunger was good. It took his mind off the throbbing in his knee that had turned his determined stride into a pained limp. The tightness around his rib cage wasn’t very encouraging either.

As he walked, his mind began to wander more deeply into the morning’s memories. He was within visual range of the gate when the first sounds of the device activating registered. The blue waters manifested, bursting forth before settling backward into the placid surface of the event horizon.

He ducked back behind a tree, not sure he wanted to face unknown guests on his own. Teyla had said this was an unknown world. But that didn’t mean that his luck wasn’t bad enough for bad guys to suddenly stumble upon it while he was here on his own and injured.

When the gate shut down, he glanced out from between a thick growth of low hanging fauna to observe the new arrivals. Teyla, Ronon and Rodney were present. They’d brought Elizabeth, Carson, and Lorne’s entire team along.

He stepped out from behind the tree. “Well, you’re all a sight for sore eyes,” he drawled. They must have really been worried about him. Of course, he wondered why his team had left him behind in the first place.

At his words, everyone spun in his direction, some bearing arms. Most bearing arms when you took Elizabeth and Carson out of the equation. Though his team was armed, none of them were pointing weapons in his direction.

The arms were lowered more slowly than he would have liked considering he was a friendly. Actually, he was their commanding officer. Under normal circumstances firing on one’s commander was frowned upon. Pegasus did tend to turn some rules upside down.

“Colonel.” Carson was the first to approach him, followed closely by Elizabeth, and then everyone else. He drew a scanner from an inside pocket as he went. 

That set off all kinds of alarms in John’s mind. Off world, Carson and Elizabeth would not lead what amounted to a rescue mission. Never mind that it was galling to think that he was the one who needed to be rescued and not to know why.

“I’m fine, Carson. A little tired maybe, but fine.” He tried to head the doctor off at the pass. He knew where these things always ended. The last thing he wanted right now was to find himself stuck in the infirmary overnight for whatever reason Carson cooked up.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Carson shot back, continuing with his scan. 

John frowned, noticing the way everyone else was hanging back. Rodney, who normally couldn’t be quiet if his life depended on it, hadn’t spoken a word. Ronon and Teyla both looked downright uncomfortable. And Lorne….

“That’s it, then,” Carson said, offering a small shake of his head to the rest of the group, and then put his scanner away. 

“Okay, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m tired and I’m hungry and I’d really like nothing better than to go home, grab some food, a shower and some sleep. Not necessarily in that order.” He moved around Carson and headed toward the gate. 

“I’m afraid we can’t go home right now, Sir.” Lorne actually stepped in front him as if to block his way.

“And why is that, Major?” John made sure to put a little steel in his tone. To Lorne’s credit, his hands weren’t anywhere near his weapon. They were both raised as if he was doing everything in his power to avoid involving arms. 

“Because, John, if you do, you’ll die.” 

“You want to run that by me again?” He turned to face Elizabeth. She sounded like she was serious. 

“We all came here to find you –

“I can see that and I appreciate it, even if you did take your own sweet time.” 

“- because we were worried about you. We didn’t come sooner because we thought you were dead.” 

“What?” This was making less and less sense. 

“We’ve watched you die three times today.” 

John just stared at her. He was here, he was alive. “Is it the gate? Is there something wrong with it?” 

“No, it’s not the gate. It’s you, John. You’re not real. You’re not the real John Sheppard.” 

John looked around at the group. All of them believed what they were saying. The only way to prove them wrong was to go through the gate. He started off determinedly. 

“Sir.” Lorne blocked his way again. 

“It’s like this, Colonel,” Carson jumped in. “When we examined the other bodies, we discovered that they weren’t human. My scan proved that you are identical to the other three. You’re all replicated beings. Doctor McKay believes that something on this world is creating copies of you, the original you. It’s broadcasting some kind of signal that is keeping you animated. But when gate back to the city, the connection is broken, and that’s when you deactivate.”

“Carson,” John implored the doc. “You're trying to get me to believe that I'm not me, and that I'm going to die. I know I’m me. I might not remember everything that happened today, but I know I’m me.” 

 

“Stop!” That from McKay. “We don’t have time for this. While we’re standing here arguing with you, he could be running out of time.” 

“Who?!” John demanded, and then the answer came to him. The real John Sheppard. Had he just stepped into some weird Pegasus Galaxy version of the twilight zone? 

“You!” Rodney yelled back at him. “See this? This is a very weak signal, but it is the real John Sheppard’s subcutaneous transmitter. It’s weak because something in the rock is dispersing the signal. While you, on the other hand don’t even show up as a life sign! If you’re half the person John Sheppard is you’ll help us find him. If instead you’re just some hollow representation, then go ahead, dial the gate, go on through and kill yourself. We’ll find him on our own. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned from him, it’s that …” 

“We don’t leave people behind,” John whispered the words, effectively ending Rodney’s rant. He looked up into the other man’s eyes; saw the stress of the day. As he looked around, he could see it in all of them. 

“What do you need?” he asked. 

“If you could tell us everything that happened when you were separated from the rest of the team….” Elizabeth suggested. “That might give help us figure out what happened, and how to prevent more copies being made.” 

“Perhaps we could walk as we discuss these matters,” Teyla suggested. “It is a considerable walk to the ruins.” 

John nodded as they set off. “I woke up on the floor in a cave. It was pretty dark, but I could feel a breeze and hear the water so I just followed the sound of it until it led outside. I looked around for … the team, but I was alone. There was nothing on the radio. So, I headed back to the gate, hoping to get help. That’s it. Not really much to it.”

“Do you remember falling into the hole?” Rodney asked.

John squinted, trying to fill in the spaces still missing in his memory. “Maybe? Some things are still hazy. I remember the dark and wishing for the light, then nothing. When I work up, it was still dark, and that’s when I was able to tell that it was a cave.”

“Not helpful, huh?” he asked at their looks. 

Another memory returned -- that of the ancient scanner he had tried to use earlier that day. He pulled it out and handed it to McKay. “That doesn’t work,” he declared.

“Not surprising since you don’t have the gene and couldn’t initialize it.”

John nodded. It was beginning to make sense, now. “I can show you the cave. Maybe that’ll help figure out why I’m here. There was a trail leading farther into the hillside. Maybe there’s something there you can use.” 

“Thank you, John. We appreciate that.” Elizabeth smiled at him in gratitude. 

He offered a wry half smile and looked away. He felt like she was calling him by someone else’s name. It was beginning to freak him out. After that, the group fell into silence. 

Several minutes passed before he turned to Elizabeth. “Where do you fall on the subject of pets in Atlantis?”

Elizabeth looked surprised. Obviously she hadn’t seen that one coming, and wasn’t sure whether or not to take his question seriously. “Did you have a particular type of animal in mind?” she asked. 

“Well, yes, actually, I did. You see, we found these tiny kitten-like creatures closer to the ruins. The discussion may have arisen ....”

“Who bet what?” she asked, quickly seeing through his prevarication. 

John shrugged, unwilling to reveal his hand. 

“Well, either way, the answer is no. There is an actual IOA regulation regarding keeping alien life forms as pets.” 

John grinned and shot a look in Rodney’s direction. “Make sure you pay up.” 

“Fine,” Rodney groused. 

The mood lightened after that, and they continued on. They stopped by the place where Sheppard had fallen through the hole first. They called to him, and didn’t receive any response. The subQ signal while stronger closer to the ruins was still being distorted. 

John offered to try to go down on a rope, but the idea was nixed. It seemed the area had widened since the morning and was even more unstable. 

Elizabeth had studied the Ancient text visible on the stone across from the sink hole but had been unable to come up with a translation, though she had recorded it to study later. John then led them on to the cave, leading them all inside, adding more foot prints to the mossy rock. 

“You say there are three of me back on Atlantis?” he asked, as they continued on into the dimmer space. 

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered. 

“That explains the foot prints. I was wondering where they came from. They were all my size, and they were all heading out.” 

No one had a response to that. John figured it was just one more piece of evidence. Not that he wasn’t already convinced. “This is where I woke up.” He gestured them into the room off the main vein of the cave and pointed to the flattened area of square rock. 

“I’m getting a residual signal, here,” Rodney said as he bent and ran a scanner over the area. “It’s exhibiting some of the same properties as the transporters on Atlantis.” He looked around them. “If only there was a control console in here.” He looked back downward as his data pad beeped. “Sheppard’s subQ signal is clearing up. It’s coming from .... that way.” He pointed to the right of the room, in the direction that took them deeper into the hillside. 

John followed along as the group continued, no longer leading. There was an urgency to their step as they continued in search of their friend. He felt deep in his bones that he was John Sheppard, despite all the evidence to the contrary. These were his friends. It was beyond surreal to feel like an outsider in his own rescue. 

“This way! Right here!” Rodney’s voice had gone high pitched which usually meant that he’d found something big. 

He had. 

John stared at the door. It was wide and gray - the same color as the surrounding rocks. But its surface was smooth and obviously man made. The crystal bank along the side of it gave it away as of Ancient origin. 

Rodney paused a brief moment, before running his hand over the crystals. The door slid open obediently. They stepped inside and were immediately surrounded by very familiar paneled walls. It was just like being inside some of the lower levels of Atlantis, right down to the stained glass decorations. 

As they continued to walk, following McKay’s lead, they entered a much larger room. It had the feel of an atrium. Benches were placed at different angles around the area, while a stained glass ceiling towered above. Instead of sunlight streaming through, the windows were blocked by what John suspected was eons of sediment. Eventually trees must have grown on top of the mound. 

“I guess Smart Rodney was on to something,” he said mildly. 

“I guess so,” Rodney agreed without complaining about terminology. He continued to look up and around for several long moments, before turning back to his data pad. 

“We need to go this way.” 

John sighed and followed. 

They entered a portion of the facility that was dimmer than the rest. In some areas, the incursion of sand and dirt from above was visible. A portion of the wall was buckled slightly and bits of dead roots was visible. Liquid had seeped in as well, leaving water stains on the once pristine flooring. 

There was a lot of talk back and forth between Rodney and Elizabeth about ways to preserve the site. John didn’t chime in, but choose to continue to move along with the rest of the group as they continued toward the signal emanating from the subQ. They were getting close, and the anxiety was palpable. Everyone was moving a little faster. 

At the far end of a large sitting area was another space. The damage was visible here as well. “This has to be it,” Rodney announced, and pressed on ahead. 

The new room was the worse yet. Clearly there had been a major breach from above. A large pile of dirt, leaves and other debris had spilled atop a wide row of control consoles before being dumped on the floor. The crystals on the central console looked as if they had been crushed. 

John came to a stop as a memory flooded his mind. The ground had gone out from beneath him, and he’d crashed downward, landing hard on top of the control console. His tac vest had saved him from the jagged edge of the crystals, before momentum had sent him tumbling across the room to land ....

He turned to the left and saw John -- the real John, laying curled on his side atop a low conically shaped platform nestled in the corner of the room. It was similar to the one in the cave, with the exception that it was edged with blue lighting. 

Sheppard didn’t look well. His hair was dusty, and crusted with blood from a head injury. It was in the same spot where his own head hurt. The knee injury, the scratches on his arms; the visible injuries were all there, only worse. 

Already Sheppard’s friends were rushing toward him. There was a faint blue spark as they got close. They all stopped so quickly, it would have been comical under normal circumstances. 

“He’s alive, I can see his respirations.” That from Carson. “But this thing isn’t letting me near him!” 

“I’ll plug in, see if I can find anything,” Rodney said, already pulling wires from his pack. 

John blocked the rest of the conversation. John Sheppard was in good hands. His friends would get him out of there. That’s what they did. 

He backed away from all of the activity, then turned and headed out of the room. Once outside, he leaned against the wall and allowed himself to slide down to the floor. It felt good to be sitting. 

He reached into his vest and pulled out the LSD. It still didn’t work for him. It didn’t work because he wasn’t the real John Sheppard. He gently settled the device on the floor beside himself. He was hungry and he was tired, and more than anything, he just wanted to go home. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

-original-

Rodney quickly scanned through the data running across the screen. He really didn’t like what he saw. He unplugged his data pad and moved across the room where everyone else hovered outside of the field that was protecting the cone-shaped space where Sheppard lay. 

“Rodney?” Carson looked up at him, clearly desperate to get to work. Everyone else seemed equally anxious for the answers. 

“He’s powering them,” Rodney said. “The field protects the operator while his subconscious is connected to the avatars. He won’t wake up unless we deactivate the copy. We’ll only have a window of a couple of minutes to get him off the platform before the system resets and creates another.” 

“You mean, we have to send him through the gate after all?” Carson didn’t seem to like the idea on any level.

“I know of a quicker way,” Ronon said. 

Suddenly the blue lights surrounding the platform dimmed and faded out completely. Rodney looked down at his screen. “It’s off! Get him off the platform.” 

Carson sprang forward and several sets of hands reached out to help, while Rodney was left wondering what happened. The information in the database had been clear. As long as any avatar was active…. 

He turned and looked around the room. Where was Sheppard 4? He headed out of the lab and found him seated alongside the door. The LSD was on the floor at his side, and his eyes were closed. It was clear that there was no simulated breathing. 

He stood there a long time, wondering. Had he known? Had he willed himself off? Could they even do that?

Lorne moved up alongside him. “You okay, Doctor McKay?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes not leaving the replicated Sheppard. “He really thought he was John Sheppard.” 

Lorne shrugged. “Technically, he was.” 

Humph. Rodney stooped to pick up the LSD. You could never have too many of them. And somehow, he figured this version of Sheppard would want them to have it.


End file.
